Believe It Or Not, I Come Here for the Food
Believe It Or Not, I Come Here for the Food
Beer in Utica, NY
Despite the over-salted sauce, the chicken wings are crispy, like potato chips, and manage to hit the sweet spot of spiciness. Their partner in crime, the ice-cold beer known as Utica Club, or UC, cleanses the palate for the next round of heat.
Utica, New York, former home to the elite, was an important stop on both the railroad and Erie Canal before it was dealt the blow of being passed over by the construction of the New York State thruway during the Eisenhower era. Currently, it plays host to a large refugee community, who make up one out of four residents in the city.
The furniture in this bar dates from when the owners, Duke and Doris, purchased this former gas station. It’s all faded lime green accented with duct tape. Like a casino, this pub, and others like it, help you forget about the outside world. It’s just you, the beers and a sports game playing for eternity like 24-hour news.
Believe it or not, I come here for the food.
Inevitably I’m seated next to someone in a construction orange sweatshirt with their business’s name printed across the back. Something like Tim’s Towing in block letters with a 315 area code and number.
Occasionally, the outside world intrudes. My father and I, frequent co-pilots in nostalgia, spot a shirt that reads: “Finally Someone Who Has Balls, Vote Donald Trump!” Instantly, the protective wall between past and present is gone. It’s an awkward shirt not just for the mental image, but because Utica has communities of Bosnians, Somalians, and Burmese, to name a few.
Beyond questionable style choices, there is usually no mention of politics here. Patrons coexist and graze peacefully over wings and cheap beer. Its company slogan reads, “Always Say UC for Me!”
After living in Denver, with its craft beer scene, I appreciate this no-nonsense approach to winding down; the lack of Macbooks, and the simple bar fare.
UC is served in a can the color of decaf soda from the 90s, a sort of off-gold. The company claims it was the first beer officially sold after Prohibition. Almost one hundred years later, in Utica you can still get the beer for USD$13 for a 24-pack in stores, and as little as two dollars from the bar.
When I buy UC outside of Utica, it tastes of rainwater strained through sheep wool, possibly from sitting on the shelf for too long. In Utica, it’s perfect.